Masked Intentions
by MessrRemusLupin
Summary: Hermione wanted to help and Draco wanted to escape. Although it won't be as easy as either might have hoped. They must follow in their late Potions Masters footsteps and take the Dark Mark to help the Order and bring down the one at the head of the war, Lord Voldemort.
1. Introduction

Three years had passed since the battle of Hogwarts. Two years, eleven months, and 12 days, to be exact, and the war was still raging on.

For the Order this meant they always had to be on their toes as the attacks had recently begun to fluctuate in frequency and pattern. Weeks would pass without a single sighting of an attack and then just when everything seem settled an entire neighborhood would be burned down.

The members of the Order were in a panic for the next assault and were constantly trying to prepare for whatever might be thrown at them.

Remus Lupin had sent his wife, Nymphadora Tonks and their son Teddy into permanent hiding, employing himself as the secret keeper of the little house the two occupied. Arthur and Molly Weasley worked endlessly setting up wards on the Burrow. After the previous attack they had managed to rebuild the home as best as they could but the state of the already dilapidated residence just looked sadder. Still, the couple were doing what they could to maintain it.

For Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, they had become more or less nomads. They made sure to stay in touch with the other members but they were constantly uprooting themselves after a few weeks in one place to run damage control in another.

Hermione Granger, on the other hand, had opted to stay behind. Opted being an exaggerated term in the matter. In fact, Harry and Ron had all but forced her to remain with the rest of the Order. She had fought tooth and nail with them, but in the end she agreed as long as she could still be of use where she was. Unfortunately for her, that end of the bargain had yet to be held up.

Her friends had left three months ago and here she was, still sitting on her ass. Her frustration was growing steadily and she felt the urge to write a strongly worded letter to Harry and Ron. But she knew they couldn't do anything about it. And that thought made her even more annoyed.

Hermione had recently taken to pacing her flat's floor, waiting for any news from anyone. And it was during one of her daily walks that a silvery mist in the shape of a phoenix floated into her kitchen and spoke the words she had been anxiously awaiting.

"We request your services Miss Granger."


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapters. Hopefully they'll be longer. I mostly just wanted to get something out there to start it off. Also, you might notice the story line has slight alterations. Reviews are greatly appreciated. **

Without so much as a second thought, Hermione apparated to the location the Order used to rendezvous in instances such as these. When she appeared outside of the run down building she hesitated a moment before she hurriedly walked in.

Hermione wasn't entirely sure what would greet her when she arrived, but from the look on her face as she entered through the small doorway, this was not it.

Lying on a cot was Draco Malfoy, unconscious and somewhat bloody and bruised. His breath was shallow and one of his eyes had started to swell. Next to his bed was Madame Pomfrey, who must have been rushed from Hogwarts, tending to him.

Hermione stepped further into the room with bated breath and examined the still man. As she appraised his injuries she could hear the soft footfalls of someone behind her and she quickly turned to face the approaching company. Not to her surprise, she found Albus Dumbledore looking down at her with a sense of solemnity.

"Professor, what's happened?"

"I'm afraid I can not tell you as I do not know myself, Miss Granger." Hermione gazed at her old Headmaster with a curious look. Dumbledore caught this and elaborated on his earlier statement.

"Mister Malfoy somehow managed to apparate into Hogwarts, more accurately, in my office. His appearance then was very similar to his current state, albeit a little worse, I would say. He promptly passed out mere seconds after appearing before me and from there I had him, Madame Pomfrey and myself moved here."

"I'm sorry sir, but why does this pertain to me?" she asked, confused.

Dumbledore let a small weary grin grace his face.

"I was informed you wish to be of help. Did I receive incorrect information?"

Hermione shook her head swiftly and with that affirmation, the Headmaster moved to sit in the next room, gesturing for her to follow.

As they sat down, an uneasy silence rested upon them. A few minutes later, though, Madame Pomfrey rushed to the doorway.

"He's waking."

* * *

An awful pounding sensation surfaced in Draco's head as he began to open his eyes, the little light shining through hurting his he awoke more, he became aware that his entire body was aching and he let out a small groan.

Soon a wet rag dabbed across his forehead and as he glimpsed at the woman hovering over him he had nearly believed he was still a seventh year in the infirmary at Hogwarts, being tended to after a particularly nasty Quidditch incident. Although, coming to his senses he remembered the situation at hand and once more let out a groan, louder this time.

"Mister Malfoy, can you hear me?" The voice of his old Headmaster rang out at a volume much too loud for Draco's taste and he grimaced, but gave a slight nod of his head.

"Very well," Dumbledore continued. "Now, are your memories recollected enough to give us an idea of what transpired?"

Once again Draco nodded his head while grumbling about the pushy old man before him. He pushed himself up as best he could and cleared his throat.

"A meeting was called for the Death Eaters early this morning and my father left minutes after the summoning. When he returned about an hour later he called for me. He said _our Lord_ required me." Draco sneered at the thought. "I couldn't very well say no. And even though I knew my father and Voldemort were doing their best to make me take the mark, I went." He paused, taking a deep breath.

"When I arrived, someone from behind me shoved me to the ground. I managed to get up and turn my wand on the perpetrator but they disarmed me. After that he and a couple of other Death Eaters did their best to hold me down, using curse after curse, and attempted to mark me." Draco yanked his sleeve up to show a partially formed Dark Mark.

"I apparated away when the spells began to weaken their hold. They weren't able to finish what they started."

Silence followed Draco's statement and Dumbledore wore a contemplative look.

"What does your being here then mean, Mister Malfoy?"

"I wish to formally join the Order."

* * *

Hermione Granger was struck with disbelief. Although she knew people could change, and did, she never expected it to come from Malfoy. She glanced at Dumbledore who looked surprisingly pleased.

"Very well, Mister Malfoy. The Order could use someone like you, especially now."

"Someone like me?" Draco snarled, assuming the older man meant the worst of him.

"Why of course," replied Dumbledore. "You are related to two of Voldemort's most loyal followers. I predict that could be very convenient."

Draco rolled his eyes but kept quiet anyway.

"Now, there's just the matter of what you can do to help." Noticing Miss Granger next to him with a rather annoyed expression, he continued. "As well as you Miss Granger."

Hermione perked up at this. _Finally_, she thought, _I'll be able to do something other than sit around and worry_.

"I must give this some thought, of course. I should hope to be ready tomorrow to report what your task shall be." Dumbledore stood from where he sat and moved to the exit. "I'll return here at noon tomorrow." He smiled in goodbye and firmly closed the door shut. From the other side a faint crack sounded and with that Hermione took her leave.

* * *

The next day arrived with high tension clouding Hermione's thoughts. She was happy to finally be of use, but there was a part of her absolutely terrified of what might await her.

Five minutes to twelve, Hermione reached the door and nearly pushed straight through before remembering her manners.

_We may be at war but that doesn't mean we can throw all proper etiquette out the window_, Hermione thought. She rapped her knuckles on the rugged wood and a moment later Madame Pomfrey threw open the door.

"Oh hello Miss Granger," she said with a distant smile, "Come in, come in."

She ushered Hermione through the corridor and into the main room where Hermione was promptly pushed into a chair the second she stepped foot next to the table. A cup of tea was placed before her and she quietly thanked the woman rushing off to another room. Hermione could hear the dull sounds of a conversation between the nurse and her charge, both growing rather frustrated with the other.

As she sipped her tea, the noise died down and a rather flustered Madame Pomfrey came out of the room.

"Sorry, Miss Granger, you know ho- Oh! Hello Albus." Hermione turned in her seat to see Professor Dumbledore had indeed arrived, and right on time it seemed. Draco was still moaning about on the other side of the wall.

"Good afternoon, to both of you. You as well, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore said warmly, the latter half spoken a bit louder than the first so as to be heard. "Shall we?" He gestured from them to follow.

* * *

The past hour was spent with a long-winded address from Dumbledore completely and thoroughly outlining out the entire plan of action. Everyone looked on in shock as the man rambled on and for the first time Hermione believed Professor Dumbledore was off his rocker. Completely mental. And judging from the look on the boy's face next to her he was making the same assessment.

"I'm sorry sir, I don't think I heard correctly. You want us to do what?"

Dumbledore's eyes darkened behind his half-moon spectacles.

"I'm requesting the two of you go undercover as Death Eaters."


End file.
